


When You Care Enough To Send The Best

by AkiRah



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Damsel in Distress, F/M, Hyperdrive Lullabies, Implied Almost Relationship between Smuggler and Risha, Jhonnen Leif (OC), Jhonnen meets his dad, Torture, the worst father's day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 02:51:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19368496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkiRah/pseuds/AkiRah
Summary: Jhonnen's relationship with Kira lands him in some hot water when she gets on the wrong side of a sith lord who has wanted him dead for a very long time (Hyperdrive Lullabies Canon)





	1. Chapter 1

“Sorry, Jhonny,” Kira said over holo. Her face was drawn and apologetic. “I'd bail if I could but word is there's some serious heat coming for this Senator.” 

“Hey,” Jhonnen held his hands up placatingly. “Work happens. We'd both feel shitty if someone died because you couldn't cancel a date.” He gave her a smile. “We'll hook up next chance you get and go to dinner.”

“It's a promise.”

“Awesome. I love you, stay safe.”

Kira smiled at him. “Don't let the reservation go to waste. It took us forever to get it.”

“I doubt Corso wants to share a romantic meal, but you never know. Free food is free food.” 

After laughing, Kira hung up first and Jhonnen allowed himself a few moments of crippling disappointment before he started working on a solution. Akaavi felt civilized restaurants were a waste of time and money. Bowdaar wouldn’t leave the ship when they were on Nar Shaddaa if Jhonnen didn’t absolutely _need_ him. Guss would somehow make it weird, the way Guss made almost everything weird. Which meant that he was left with the options of Corso, Risha, or eating alone. 

Or seeing if Viv had the night off, which was unlikely in the extreme. 

Jhonnen carded his hand through his short red hair and sighed. Corso was his best friend, he supposed, so Corso got first right of refusal. 

Jhonnen left his bedroom and followed the sound of lasers to where Corso was exercising his own brand of self-love: having a beer and practicing with Torchy. Jhonnen considered himself fairly open-minded, but Corso had a love for the blaster that bordered on the unnatural. Which was _fine_ if a little hard to take from a man who made _that face_ when Jhonnen talked about any of his male conquests. Corso was trying, yes, but it was the one area where he was more regularly trying Jhonnen's patience. 

“Hey,” Jhonnen knocked on the open door with his knuckles. “Got a minute?” 

Corso lowered Torchy and turned around. “What'd'ya need?”

Jhonnen bit down on his instinctive response. Asking Corso on a _date_ would guarantee a refusal. “Wanna have dinner with me tonight? It'll be fancy.”

Corso blinked and then pursed his lips like he was forming several questions and trying to put them in an order that made sense. 

Jhonnen chose to head them off at the pass. “I'm being stood up for my birthday dinner in the name of doing the right thing. I don't want to waste the reservation. Kira's cool with it.”

“She alright? Maybe we could lend a hand.” Corso said. 

Jhonnen shook his head. “I suspect if my hypercompetent Jedi girlfriend needed a hand, she'd have said. Besides, that guy she pals around with is a serious player.” 

Corso frowned. “Still, it's a romantic dinner, right?”

“Yep, I ordered the works. Kira was going to be in disguise.”

“Wouldn't it be weird eating it with another fella, 'stead of your lady friend?”

Jhonnen shrugged. “It's a meal. But I understand if it wigs you out.” 

“I just don't want people thinking I'm—not that it's not fine that you are.” 

Jhonnen sighed. Baby steps. 

“Alright, I just wanted to give you first right of refusal before I went and asked Risha,” Jhonnen said. He waited a full beat for Corso to take his refusal back, but Corso nodded instead. 

“I never got a taste for high falutin’ food, might be more to her liking anyway.” 

That much, at least, was certain. 

In the safety of his own thoughts, Jhonnen reflected that it would be _more_ awkward to have a faux-romantic meal with Risha than it would with Corso because he and Risha had almost been a _thing_ , whereas there was nothing like that to dredge up while he was sitting across from Corso. 

Also teasing Corso about the flowers would have admittedly been more fun than getting teased about them by Risha. 

There was nothing for it. Jhonnen left Corso’s bunk and continued down the corridor until he got to the engine room and leaned in to confirm that Risha was inside. 

Her long coat was on the floor, arms covered in grease up to the elbows, hydrospanner lying next to her bent knee. 

“Something I should be made aware of?” Jhonnen asked. 

Risha looked over her shoulder and shook her head, withdrawing her hands from the open panel she’d been digging in. “Just a couple of tweaks. You need me for something, Flyboy?” 

Jhonnen shrugged. “I would like to invite you on a faux-romantic dinner tonight. I’m sorta being stood up and it’d be a shame to waste the reservation.” 

“What?” Risha sneered a little. “Corso turn you down?” 

“He’s just not serious about our relationship. I can’t even get him to use me for my body.” 

Risha chuckled. “You and Kira alright?” 

“We’re fine, she’s just got important hero things to do.” Jhonnen brought his hands up as if to say _what can you do?_ “The reservation’s at The High Top and I don’t want to waste it. It… will be romantic, the flowers and shit have already been ordered, but, free meal.” 

Risha nodded and grabbed a rag to wipe her hands on. “Romantic doesn’t bother me, Flyboy, I know where we stand.” 

As usual, she didn’t sound _happy_ about it. For the most part their almost-romance was a subject both party members danced around. Risha’s usual stance was that it had never happened, which was how Jhonnen knew he’d hurt or offended her. 

Every now and then though, Risha would use what had almost been as a bludgeon when he wasn’t expecting it. 

At least it kept Jhonnen on his toes. 

“Cool,” he said with a nod. “Dinner’s at seven local time.” 

“I’ll be cleaned up by then.” 

* * *

Risha dressed the part and met him at the airlock. Jhonnen wasn’t sure where she’d been keeping the little black dress, but his eyes traversed it treacherously and he was _positive_ that had been the point. She certainly looked plenty pleased with herself about it. 

Jhonnen missed Kira. They’d picked out her outfit for dinner together, a little blue number the color of Makeb’s sky, just flashy enough that no one would guess she was a Jedi. He’d been looking forward to seeing her in it, to just spending his birthday with her. 

But duty called and Kira had a job and a destiny and the chops to be a first rate hero. Unlike Jhonnen’s underachieving ass. 

“Something on my dress, Flyboy?” Risha asked smugly. 

Jhonnen shook his head. “You look nice.” It was something of a polite understatement. She had done this on purpose and he was a little bit annoyed about it. 

“That’s the general idea, yes.” 

He snorted and rolled his eyes. “Shall we?” 

They took a taxi from the spaceport to the Star Cluster Casino, where the restaurant was. 

“You look nice too,” Risha said, staring out the window so he couldn’t see her face. 

Jhonnen grinned. “What, this old thing?” he said about the fancy clothes he’d bought for the occasion. 

It was supposed to be a big deal sort of dinner and now he was trying to close the distance between him and Risha with humor. Trying to make a big deal dinner into a much smaller deal. 

Risha turned to look at him, an inscrutable smile on her mouth. “So what’s actually keeping your girlfriend from filling this place?” 

He shrugged. “Bodyguard duty for some Senator. She doesn’t tell me half of what she gets up to.” 

“And they say communication’s the secret to a happy marriage.” Risha rolled her eyes as she said it because she was, as far as Jhonnen could tell, allergic to genuine sentiments. 

He took it in stride. It was take it in stride or drown. 

Jhonnen rolled his eyes and looked out the window, grateful that the Star Cluster Casino was visible and they were almost at the restaurant. When they climbed out of the taxi Risha played the little lady and extended a hand to Jhonnen for help out of the vehicle. 

“Really?” 

“Getting up and down in this dress is tougher than it looks,” Risha said. 

Jhonnen snorted a laugh and took her hand, pulling her upright a little too strenuously so that she had to catch herself on his chest. 

“That kinda night, Jhonnen? I’d almost think you were nervous.” 

He was nervous. He’d never been to a fancy restaurant before and now, instead of attending with his girlfriend, he was on a date with the most charming firaxen shark he’d ever met. 

“Just keeping you _on your toes_ ,” Jhonnen replied. 

“Hm,” Risha set her hand in the crook of his elbow and the headed up to the restaurant. 

Jhonnen gave his name and they were escorted to a private table set with flowers and a candle, which the host lit as Jhonnen and Risha sat down. 

Jhonnen let Risha make their wine selection because he didn’t know anything about wines, and then they were left alone to the beast of conversation. 

Risha had a face suited to soft candlelight and Jhonnen chose to be more annoyed about it than anything else. She smiled when she noticed him staring, eyes slipping uncharacteristically off his face before they returned like she’d noticed the slip up. 

“You’re staring.” 

“Yeah, sorry,” He looked down. “So, been to a place like this often?” 

“Once or twice,” Risha said. Her smile softened a little and then corrected. “I’m supposed to be a Queen, my father made sure I had exposure to the finer things in life.” She shrugged. “You?” 

“Nah, grew up dumpster diving. But I figured that fat Republic stipend should go to a good cause.” 

“Taking Kira out?” Risha said it with a smirk.

“She _also_ grew up dumpster diving. We used to talk about eating here when we grew up to be rich and famous.” 

“It’s cute that you’ve been friends since you were kids.” 

Jhonnen couldn’t tell if she meant it or not because she delivered the line in the same tone she delivered everything that could have been mocking or could have been genuine. 

He thought back to the first years they’d traveled together, how taken in he’d been by her wit and her strength. 

In the candlelight it was all too easy to remember that they had almost _been_ something. It was all too easy to wonder where they’d be if things had gone that route. Jhonnen looked down at the menu and tried to absorb it until he was interrupted by the sommelier pouring a deep red wine into his glass. 

“Thanks,” he said before the man left. He watched Risha swirl the liquid in her glass and then sniff it before sipping it. 

“Let me know what you think, Flyboy.” 

Jhonnen picked up his glass and sniffed it experimentally. “Smells all right, but you are aware that the finer details are going to be lost on me. I’ve got a decent sense of smell, but it’s mostly for finding smoke coming off the engine.” He sipped and tasted… bitter, actually. The bitter spread out over his tongue and seemed to dry it out while the fumes filled his mouth with notes that he could probably have described as floral. He didn’t hate it, but he figured he would rather have had caf. 

“So?” 

“It’s floral, right?” 

“I’m impressed. Do you like it?” 

Jhonnen shrugged. “I’ll definitely drink it, but it’s not going on my list of top beverages.” 

Risha laughed. “You’re utterly classless.” 

Jhonnen smiled and tipped his head to the side in agreement. It was on the tip of his tongue to call her out on liking that about him. It was why the count hadn’t held her interest and why she hadn’t had any prospects since. Risha liked that Jhonnen was classless and clever because he could dance in the circles she’d grown up with. It was familiar and comforting and she’d deny it if he called her out on it. 

So he wouldn’t. He’d let her have her lies. 

Lies were all she seemed to have. 

He was… a little bitter about it, but that didn’t mean he got to make it her problem. 

He looked back down at the menu. “Any idea what you’re having?” He lifted his eyes and Risha dropped hers to inspect the menu. “I’m probably going to have the shaak steak with the meiloorun reduction, still no idea about soup.” 

Risha nodded. “Good choice.” She caught her lower lip in her teeth as she considered the menu. “I think I’ll have the crab rotoven, should be pretty fresh.” 

A man came by and took their order and then disappeared again. 

Risha sipped her wine and Jhonnen followed suit, trying to get used to having a drink that made his mouth dry. It violated all kinds of sense.

But it wasn’t horrible. 

“So,” Risha said as their food showed up. “How are things going with Kira?” 

Jhonnen cocked his brow at her. “Looking for dirt or genuinely wondering?” 

Risha cracked open a crab leg and extracted speckled blue meat. “Can’t it be both? She is dating my captain, after all.” 

“Things are wonderful,” Jhonnen answered. “ _She’s_ wonderful.” 

“Guess not all Jedi are frigid. Though I hear they’re supposed to be.” 

Jhonnen shrugged. “Sumalee didn’t come across as particularly frigid, Rish.” 

Risha laughed. “You don’t know her like I do. Let’s just say giving up sex was probably one of the easiest things the order asked of her.” 

“That’s good. I’m glad she had a smooth transition.” 

Risha smiled at that and rolled her eyes, breaking into another crab leg. 

Jhonnen looked down at his shaak steak and started to carve into it, desperately trying to not look like he was marveling at how easily the meat came apart. He wished Kira were there, he wouldn’t have had to pretend with Kira because Kira would have been in the same boat. 

They’d have to try again. 

“So, got any plans after dinner?” 

Jhonnen looks up from slicing his steak and looked at Risha. He’d _had_ plans for after dinner but they all involved Kira’s sky blue dress on his floor. “Not really.”

“We’re close to the casino, could try our luck.” 

Jhonnen nodded. “That sounds like fun, but if I end up losing this tux we’re going to be having _words_.” 

“How much is the tux worth?” Risha teased. 

“Enough that I would realistically put it on the betting table if it came down to it.” Jhonnen teased back. “You don’t want to see me naked.” 

“Maybe you shouldn’t assume what I want, Flyboy.” As soon as the words were out, Jhonnen could see that Risha regretted them. She reached for her wine like it would put out the fiery flush on her cheeks. 

Jhonnen took a sip of his own. “But yeah,” he changed the topic back. “The casino could be fun.” 

They ate in silence. Partially because the food was delicious and warranted their full attention and partially because they were both thinking about what Risha had said. How a few different steps in their shared history would have led to that being a thing. 

Jhonnen missed Kira. Even when he and Kira were awkward it had never elicited this kind of silence. When he’d awkwardly, accidentally, confessed that he thought she was beautiful when they were sixteen Kira had laughed and grinned at him. Things were comfortable with Kira. 

And they’d probably be comfortable with Risha if either Jhonnen or Risha would _let them_. 

But _he_ couldn’t trust that Risha wouldn’t sell him up river.

And Risha’s pride had been wounded and that turned her into an almighty bitch a lot of the time. 

Which was fair. 

* * *

They headed to the casino after eating. The glitz and glitter drawing them in. Risha hung on his arm as they mounted the steps. “What should we try our hand at?” 

Jhonnen considered. “I’m pretty good at sabacc, but the pazaak table looks like it’s the more happening place.” 

“I’ll take pazaak,” Risha said. “You go do what you do best.” 

“Oh, are there flight simulators?” he teased. 

Risha cracked a smile and rolled her eyes at him. “See you when you’ve lost, Flyboy.” 

“Might be a while, make sure you have something to drink while you wait.” 

They pulled apart from one another and Jhonnen watched her stalk to the pazaak table, ready and eager to take someone else’s money. He’d only seen her gamble seriously with her life before and when they played sabacc on the ship, Risha played like she didn't care. He wondered how she’d change in a casino, when she was playing to win instead of playing to pass time. 

The last serious gamble she took was on him. He liked to think she’d more than broke even with it. They’d recovered her crown and they were working on a way to make her queen when the civil war on Dubrillion mellowed out. 

And all it had taken was trust that he wouldn’t airlock her before they’d found “Nok Drayen’s” treasure and then not shooting him when the man himself commanded her to. 

Jhonnen pushed it all aside and headed for the sabacc table. He took a seat and ordered a drink before checking his cards. He made a modest bet and watched the other players at the table, prepared to lose until he had everyone figured out. 

He lost three hands and then started winning, calling on advice he’d picked up in Panwa Muni’s dressing room as a child and young teenager, before he got old enough that it was generally agreed that he could wait outside or bus tables if he was going to be around. He remembered Darmas and the advice he’d given when he was still pretending to be on Jhonnen’s side, that annoying ‘all life is a sabacc game if you look at it right’ mentality that had annoyed Jhonnen even before things started going screwy. 

He won a couple of hands until he’d doubled what he’d sat down with, and then took his winnings and left the table feeling pretty good. 

Risha came over and gave him a smile. “Had enough excitement, Flyboy? How’d you do?” 

“Think I paid for dinner,” Jhonnen answered. “Not much beyond that, you?” 

“Remember that tune-up I’ve been talking about?” 

“Yeah.” 

“One more job and we should be able to afford it.” 

“Nice.” Jhonnen offered her his arm. “Ready to head back?” 

Risha set her hand in the crook of his elbow. “I’m feeling sociable, let’s grab a bottle of tarisian wine and play some sabacc with whoever’s still awake.” 

Jhonnen set his free hand atop her hand and huffed a laugh. “Sounds like fun.” 


	2. Chapter 2

“Everybody hang on to something!” Jhonnen shouted into the intercom. He peeled to the left, dodging the fire from the Imperial transport coming up behind them. His comm crackled and he answered it before dropping the ship so the transport overshot. 

“Captain Jhonnen Leif,” said the Imperial over the holo. 

“This is him,” Jhonnen tried to make a break for it and peeled away as an imperial dreadnaught pulled into sight. 

“You are under arrest!” 

“That’s cute,” Jhonnen answered. “Risha, we’ve got problems!” 

“I know we’ve got problems,” Risha shouted back from the engine room. “I keep telling you this tub doesn’t have enough guns.” 

“Don’t call my baby a tub,” he retorted out of sheer habit. 

“You are under arre—”

“Heard you the first time,” Jhonnen closed the channel. “Risha give the engines everything we’ve got, I’m going to try and race a dreadnaught.” 

“This is a stupid plan!” 

“Yeah, let me know when you’ve got a better one.” 

The comm crackled back to life. “Captain.” A Sith Lord appeared over the holo and Jhonnen froze. Broad shoulders, but the Sith had a narrow face, the tendrils just dripping off the chin and the back of the jaw. He knew that face. The eyes were wrong but he _knew_ that face because that was _his_ face. It was like looking into a bigger, scarier mirror. “We are prepared to destroy you. If you want your crew to live, you will jettison yourself in your shuttle and await pick up.”

Jhonnen wanted to refuse, but the instruments were screaming at him and there was no good way out of this. 

He looked back at the holo and took a breath, all too aware that he was about two steps away from pissing himself. “Alright,” he said. Maybe it would buy time for Risha to get _The Tick_ to safety, maybe the Sith Lord would fire on them anyway. But if Jhonnen did nothing they were all definitely, _definitely_ , going to die. 

He killed the comm and hit the intercom rather than shouting. “Rish,” he said, hating how small and sad his voice was, “I need you to take the chair.” 

“Jhonny,” she said a minute later from the doorframe. “No.” 

“I _distinctly_ wasn’t asking,” he said. “I’ll figure something out, I always do. I’ll call when I’m free and then you _will_ come get me.” 

Risha frowned but then she nodded. “Don’t keep me waiting, Flyboy, I get bored and I’m keeping her.” 

She’d probably keep the ship anyway, Jhonnen thought. He gave her a thin lipped smile—this was goodbye—and bolted for the shuttle before Corso could get wise because Corso might _actually_ have tried to stop him. 

He launched the shuttle and looked back at his baby, committing her to memory. Risha was going to fly to Nar Shaddaa, throw everyone off, and then pick up her life. She _might_ be willing to keep Corso or Bowdaar on. Maybe. Corso would probably swear himself to vengeance or at least look for some way to rescue Jhonnen before he signed up with the local Republic do-gooders. 

Jhonnen didn’t know what everyone else would do. 

The dreadnaught drew closer. A tractor beam caught the shuttle and pulled it steadily onward. Jhonnen exhaled through his nose. His hands shook and so he hooked his thumbs into his pockets to keep the tremors in check. 

He tried to force his brain to work. There were questions that needed answers and answers that could save him but it was like working through ice. The shuttle door was forced open and Jhonnen stared into the barrels of three blasters. 

“Put down your weapon!” 

Was he holding a weapon? Jhonnen looked down at his hips and saw his blaster on his belt. Slowly, left hand shaking badly, he unhooked the blaster and dropped it to the floor, sliding it over with his foot. 

Two of the Imperials entered the shuttle and cuffed his hands roughly behind his back. The third Imperial nodded. “Take him to the brig until Lord Vitreous calls for him.” 

Jhonnen was roughly marched down a level and locked in a small grey room with nothing but a pot in the corner and a low metal bench. He was a little surprised when they didn’t uncuff him, and figured that meant they didn’t want his arms free for whatever came next. 

He refused to comprehend what that might mean. 

However, as time passed, discomfort in his arms started to thaw the panic in his brain. He started to worry. Had _The Tick_ gotten free? He hadn’t seen the dreadnaught fire from the shuttle, and surely he’d bought them enough time that if Risha was quick she could have managed. 

He had to believe they’d gotten away. He would never see them again, but that was okay. 

He exhaled through his nose and flexed his arms. 

That was okay. 

The next thing on the docket of things to worry about was his situation. Why had they been interested in _him_? He’d knocked over a couple of Imperial transports for the Republic, but only about two. If this was related to that they’d have at _least_ been after Corso as well. But they’d wanted him, just him, and by name. 

So why? What had he done?

And why did Lord Vitreous _look_ like him? 

Actually he could guess why but, given as Isixia had fled for Nar Shaddaa to keep him from being killed to avenge the family honor, he was going to mostly hope _Vitreous_ didn’t piece it together or he was probably very extra dead. 

He sat on the uncomfortable metal bench until he heard a commotion at the guards’ station and got up to see what the hubbub was. He watched as two troopers came through the door and, after a brief conversation, marched down to Jhonnen’s cell. They took him roughly by the elbows and marched him to the lift. 

He tried to think of something witty or charming to say and realized that the effort would probably be wasted. The troopers took him up to a room across from the brig where Vitreous was waiting. Vitreous eyed Jhonnen with open disdain and nodded to the troopers who forced him onto a mostly vertical table.

“Let me speak plainly,” Vitreous said darkly. “You are bait. You will sit quietly because if you do not, I will remove your tongue. Nod.” 

Jhonnen nodded. Two thin spikes were driven suddenly through his pectoral muscles, just under the clavicle and in from the shoulder. Jhonnen screamed. 

Vitreous turned to the comm officer. “Hail her.” 

A moment later, Jhonnen was looking up at a holo of Kira. 

“What do you want, Sith?” Kira snapped. 

“I have something of yours,” Vitreous gestured to Jhonnen and the spikes alighted with electricity, forcing Jhonnen’s head to snap back as he screamed again, muscles contracting violently. “If you want it to remain in one piece you will follow my directions _exactly_.” 

Kira’s mouth thinned. “What do you want?” 

Jhonnen looked up at her eyes and tried to beam his thoughts directly into her brain, begging her not to come for him. “Kir—” Jhonnen cut off as the spikes electrocuted him. 

“You will remand yourself into my custody.” Vitreous instructed, seemingly unconcerned with Jhonnen. “I will send you the coordinates to my ship and you will come alone or I _will_ kill him. I have no interest in your master.” 

“Fine. But let him go.” 

“I will release him when you are in custody,” Vitreous said, probably lying. 

The channel went dead and Vitreous turned to Jhonnen. “Add two more spikes,” he instructed one of the troopers. “I’ll return to deal with him half an hour.” 

“Sir.” 

Jhonnen tried and failed to brace as two more spikes were driven in at the join of his hips. Panting to try and grip something to anchor against the pain, Jhonnen narrowly avoided biting his tongue as two of the four spikes were shocked. Then a pause. Then one was shocked. He passed the next endless while in this way, with the number and locations of the electrocution spikes seemingly randomized to better keep him on his toes. 

His head sagged when the pain stopped, staring blankly down at his legs and the bloodstains on his pants. 

“Where is your mother?” Vitreous asked. 

Jhonnen tried to lift his head. “I don’t—” 

“Isixia,” Vitreous said flatly. “Where is she hiding?” 

“She’s dead.” Jhonnen told him. There was no betrayal in it. Isixia had passed beyond where Vitreous could hurt her. 

The spikes all jumped to life and Jhonnen screamed. “She’s dead she’s dead she died four years ago.” 

The spikes went cold. 

“How did she die?” 

“Gangsters shot up the club where she was working.” Jhonnen panted. “She just got unlucky.” 

“I need you alive for now,” Vitreous said in a low voice. “I will not risk my trap by killing you, but once she’s here, you will die as you were meant to die.” 

“Family reunions are always so awkward. I can see why we didn’t do this soon—ARGH!” 

“I see you inherited her glibness along with her eyes.” 

Jhonnen just nodded. 

* * *

The worst part of being Vitreous’s prisoner, worse even than the torture that was intended to unsettle Kira, was the lack of information. He didn’t know what had happened with _The Tick_. He didn’t know what was happening with Kira. He was just lying on the floor of his cell, patched up from a torture session so he didn’t die but unable to really move his limbs. 

An alarm started to blare, which was… interesting, Jhonnen supposed. 

There was a commotion down the hall, and Jhonnen scooted on his belly to try and position himself to see what was going on. 

He couldn’t get a good vantage but he did hear someone running and then the force field for his cell went down. 

“Jhonnen!” 

He followed a long tan and blue skirt up until he found Kira’s face and forced a smile for her concern. 

“Hey.” 

“Don’t ‘hey’ me,” she chided. “Can you get up? We need to go.” 

Jhonnen’s arms shook as he tried to push himself upright, grateful for the way Kira’s arms helped him to his feet and then she slung on of his arms over her shoulders to half-drag him to the lift. 

“What happened?” Jhonnen asked, slumping against the wall. 

“I killed Vitreous and set the ship to self-destruct,” Kira said flatly. “The rest can wait til we’re safe.” 

Jhonnen nodded his agreement, forced to rely on her to half-carry him to the escape pods. 

They launched and Kira’s hand curled over his. “Are you okay?” 

“Bah,” Jhonnen managed. “It was only a little torture.” 

He had to make light or he’d lose it. He had to laugh or he’d start crying, and Kira didn’t need him to cry, she needed him to be okay. He could fake okay for a little while, for her. 

“I felt some of it,” Kira looked down. “Just… tremors really.” 

Jhonnen forced a smile for her. “Some days I wish I _was_ Force Sensitive so this bond thing could be a two way street.” 

“Sometimes it’s really something.” 

He leaned his head against her shoulder. “It could be something later.” 

Kira laughed. “Can you even stand upright?” 

“Do I need to stand?” 

She laughed some more and kissed the top of his head. “I think we’re just going to snuggle tonight, Red.” 

“Snuggles are good. I could be down for snuggles. The only question is, uh, _where_ will we be snuggling. Because this escape pod is pretty far from cozy.” 

“Someone’s picking us up,” she promised. 

“Cool,” Jhonnen said with a nod. It’d be nice seeing Kat again. They weren’t close enough to be called _friends_ really, but they got along all right and, perhaps most importantly, Kat knew about Jhonnen and Kira and didn’t really care. “So what was all this about?” Jhonnen asked. “Or is it super secret Jedi business.” 

“You remember that Senator?” 

“The one you canceled dinner for? Yeah.” 

“Vitreous was the guy whose plot I foiled. Guess he is… he _was_ … a sore loser.” 

Jhonnen nodded, feeling somewhat like a bobblehead doll but nodding was easy and everything hurt. “He was my dad.” 

“I… kinda put that one together.” Kira admitted. “You look just like him but…”

“Miniature?”

“Yeah.” 

“Hey, Kira?” 

“Yeah, Jhonnen.” 

“I love you.” 

She chuckled and then squeezed his hand, directing his gaze to the window. “Our ride.” 

Jhonnen looked up and huffed a disbelieving breath as _The Tick_ hove into sight. He shook his head. “Are you… really?” 

“I found out what’d happened from Risha first,” Kira said. “I was already on my way when Vitreous made his demands.” 

Risha had called Kira. Jhonnen felt guilty and terrible for doubting her. The pod was picked up by the freighter and Kira helped Jhonnen out of it. He forced a smile for Corso, like that would fix the fact that he was leaning on Kira in the cargo hold covered in his own blood. 

“You alright, Jhonnen?” 

Jhonnen shrugged. “I mean, I want a fucking nap, but I’m not dead or anything.” 

Risha’s voice came over the intercom. “I’m taking us to Nar Shaddaa to lie low for a little while. Something tells me you need a doctor, Flyboy.” 

“I don’t _not_ need a doctor,” Jhonnen hollered. He almost certainly needed a doctor. 

He pulled his arm away from Kira. “I will join you for a nap in a minute, if that’s alright.” 

“Sure,” Kira agreed. “I might use the fresher first.” 

Jhonnen leaned on walls and hobbled his way to the cockpit. 

Risha looked over her shoulder. “Someone kicked the shit out of you.” 

He nodded. “Thanks, Rish, for coming back for me.” 

“Still think I wouldn’t?” Risha asked. It was impossible to tell what she thought of that and Jhonnen instinctively wanted to curl up behind inscrutability himself. He forced himself not to. 

“Sometimes you make me wonder. But you came back, and I appreciate it. Thank you.” 

“Go rest,” Risha turned back around in her chair. “You’ll make me all misty eyed.” 

Jhonnen wondered what that would even be like. But he didn’t say anything about it, instead he hobbled back down the halls to his bedroom and stripped out of his bloodstained clothes. He curled up on his mattress, feeling his muscles throb. 

When the door open he opened his arms and Kira closed the door behind her and then filled them. She kissed him soundly once and rolled to her back so he was resting his head on her shoulder. 

Jhonnen closed his eyes. “Lights.” 

And the room was plunged into cold, comforting black. 


End file.
